


Nothing bad ever happens to the Wailikis

by Prawnperson



Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Clone High quotes, Fluff, Friendship, Shipping If You Squint, Teens being teens, closest to a crack fic I’ll ever get, name HC in title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: How would Walani even know what Clone High was, considering the fact the game is set in the 1920s? Who knows!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Nothing bad ever happens to the Wailikis

“Hark!”

Whenever WX-78 looks up, Walani is standing over them. She still looks small, but it’s quite strange to have to crane to look up at her. They really don’t want to deal with whatever this is right now, they’re tired after a long hunt and Walani’s usually somewhat entertaining ‘goofing off’ will likely only serve to annoy them.

“WHAT ARE YOU—“

“That sounds like the gentle whirr of a vulnerable teenage robot!”

It takes a few moment for that sentence to register. Even when it does, it doesn’t really seem to make any sense. They aren’t sure of the exact context of her greeting, nor the strange accent she’s now using. 

“YOU ARE STRANGE, FLESHLING.”

“What’s on your, er, uh, mind, sparks?”

It’s very clear she’s trying to suppress a giggle as she speaks. Perhaps this is some strange human custom they haven’t yet learned of? Perhaps it’s some sort of Hawaiian holiday? National bad accents day? They aren’t sure they even want to ask. 

“I AM DEPLETED OF ENERGY. LEAVE ME IN PEACE.”

“Are you, uh, sure you wouldn’t like some, ah, company?” 

“STOP THAT.”

WX-78 immediately becomes aware that they have made a mistake, because Walani’s grin stretches wider and they are now certain that they have strapped themselves in for an endless series of torment revolving around a joke they don’t understand but still find oddly captivating. Part of them wishes they could change and warp their voice to such an extent. 

They curse themselves for envying a fleshling.

“My abs are so firm you can grate cheese on ‘em!”

Her voice pitches up at the end, a shrill little yell as she tosses her head back, miming lifting up her shirt. They don’t know why, but WX-78 feels themselves smirk a little.

“YOUR ABDOMINAL MUSCLES LACK DEFINITION.”

“And I would like to reply by, ah, taking my shirt off!”

And even though Walani doesn’t do it, the sheer and utter ridiculous tone of her voice makes them let out a very metallic version of a snort. This only seems to embolden her, expression becoming even giddier.

“Allow me to dry you off... with my pants!”

WX-78 doesn’t know what on earth she’s talking about. Nothing she’s saying makes any sense, it’s all just random nonsense said in a silly voice with a few random stutters or fillers thrown in here and there. There’s essentially no wit in it whatsoever, it’s the most baseline comedy, the type of thing only the most idiotic meatling could ever derive any sort of amusement from.

That doesn’t stop WX-78 from bursting into peals of laughter. 

Walani starts to laugh with them, clutching at her stomach, nose scrunched up. At some point during this fit of hysterics, WX-78 falls off the log they had both sat down on, sprawled out on the floor and giggling madly. By the time they even begin to calm somewhat, their internal mechanisms ache from the onslaught.

Walani wipes tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands, still wearing that stupid grin.

“You’re a really knock-out Betty, Wex.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the fact that my friends and I who watch the show just yell JFK quotes at each other using awful impressions of him


End file.
